


Red and Black

by purple_bookcover



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, M/M, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Goro is determined to kill the vampire spewing evil from the red and black palace. Once within the foul edifice, however, Goro finds that Akira is too strong for him - and has an appetite for things other than fighting.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	Red and Black

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Blood. Blood drinking. Blood during sex. Just a good amount of blood going on.

Goro entered the palace. He unsheathed his sword the moment he stepped onto the red and black checkered floors, but the tiled room around him lay empty. His footsteps echoed as he paced among marble columns splashed in red light. Tall windows lined the distant walls, like a twisted and warped version of a church. Instead of providing any peace or comfort, the building inspired dread with every step deeper into the cavernous hall.

Goro took a steadying breath. There was no going back now. He had to push through this place, had to extinguish the evil at its heart. That was the only way to end the injustices spawning from this evil edifice. 

He kept his sword in hand as he stepped through the empty red hall, but it began to feel almost silly. He was still alone. Perhaps the evil lurking here mocked him. 

A set of broad stairs broke the monotony of the hall. They were still distant, but Goro could pick out a throne at the top of them, golden among all the dreary red and black. Someone sat in that throne, cheek perched on their fist.

Goro pointed his sword at the figure on the throne. “Ready yourself.”

The person on the throne rose. Their laugh echoed through the hall. “Oh? Are you here to vanquish me, Goro Akechi? Finally fighting me yourself instead of pretending we’re allies?”

He chest clenched around the sound of that familiar voice. Some part of him had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that his suspicions weren’t actually true. But there was no denying it now. 

“We were never allies,” Goro said. “We were never friends, Akira.” 

Goro could practically feel Akira’s wicked grin.

“Hm,” he said. “What a shame. I always found you charming despite that. Shall we, then?” 

Goro narrowed his eyes. “Let’s. I don’t intend to back down. You think you’re clever with all this, but you’re the same coward I outsmarted before.”

“Is that what you believe happened?”

Goro didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Well,” Akira said, “I suppose we’ll find out about that, won’t we?” 

Goro braced. If Akira meant to fight, Goro would fight. It didn’t matter what had been. The friendly challenges and competitions lay lost in a past they could not reclaim. Akira was far, far gone now, more beast than man, preying on the innocent, sowing chaos from his dark throne. Goro’s duty was clear.

Akira dashed at him. It was a flash, a flicker of shadow among this room full of darkness, but Goro was ready. He met Akira’s slashing claws with the flat of his blade, throwing Akira back. 

He looked horrible. Pale. Gaunt. His hands ended in nails like claws. When Akira smiled, he revealed long, wicked fangs. God, what had he become? Goro’s heart ached just at the sight of this creature before him. It couldn’t be Akira. 

No, it _wasn’t_ Akira. Akira was gone.

What stood before him now was an animal. A rabid animal Goro would put down for good.

This time it was Goro charging, Goro sweeping in with his blade ready. Akira blocked it, batting it aside with the back of his hand. It should have cut him, but Akira’s skin absorbed the blow. 

Goro grit his teeth. This would be harder than he’d hoped, but he had to persist. 

He swept back in, swinging from side to side, pushing closer to Akira, striking at anything he thought he might pierce. Akira just kept dancing back, calm and cool, swatting the sword away like it was an irritating insect. 

_He’s playing with me,_ Goro realized. _Of course. This is just another game for him._ Goro was already covered in sweat and panting for breath, but Akira wasn’t even winded. In fact, he’d paused to examine his nails.

Goro grit his teeth, choking his sword in his grip.

Akira’s gaze sharpened. He switched abruptly into offense, moving so quickly that Goro didn’t even see the hand at his throat until it was pressing him back against one of the marble columns. 

Goro dropped his sword in his mad scramble to claw at the hand lifting him off his feet and squeezing the air out of his throat. Akira smiled at him with those razor-sharp fangs, utterly undeterred by Goro’s scrabbling. Goro flailed as his vision darkened around the edges. This was it. After all the time he’d spent searching, he was going to die this quickly and easily. He was a fraud. 

Akira dropped him suddenly. Goro fell to the floor wheezing and touching at his neck. The air dragging into his lungs burned. 

Akira crouched over Goro, grabbing him by the hair in a grip stronger than any vice. Goro was still gasping for air, too winded to fight back. 

Akira ran a long, claw-like nail down the side of Goro’s face. “I haven’t seen you in so very long, my friend.” 

Friend. What a ludicrous word. They could have been friends at one point but – no, no Goro could never be friends with someone who had this type of hideous monster lurking within them. Akira was a rival, perhaps a friendly rival, but still a rival, one Akira had always meant to conquer. If he had to do it this way, so be it.

Goro spit, but Akira dodged it easily.

“That’s not very nice,” Akira said. “Why don’t we put that mouth to a better use?” 

Akira smashed his lips against Goro’s in the next breath. The kiss pinned Goro back, sucking every last drop of air out of lungs that had only just recovered. And those teeth. Akira’s sharp teeth prickled along Goro’s lip, threatening to sink in. 

Akira used them to nibble at Goro’s bottom lip, drawing just a droplet of blood. Still, the moment Goro (and likely Akira) tasted iron, Akira drew back, shuddering rapturously. 

“I always knew you’d taste divine,” Akira said. “Ah, all that talk of justice, of right and wrong – it’s irresistible, you know. I’m so glad you decided to visit me.” 

Goro sat back, dazed. Even when Akira released him, he reclined against the column and didn’t bother trying to get away. That kiss was still thrumming through him, doing something strange to his chest, his limbs, his very blood. 

Akira smiled, swiping at Goro’s bottom lip. He licked his thumb, shuddering visibly as he tasted Goro’s blood again. Then he turned bright red eyes on Goro.

“I need more.”

Some distant part of Goro understood what that meant, a part of him that shivered and quaked and screamed at him to fight back or get away or do _something_! But most of him just sat there, reeling and confused and stunned. 

Akira dove for Goro’s neck. He pulled on Goro’s hair again, tilting his head back to expose more of this throat as those sinister fangs tracked along Goro’s skin.

Goro braced, expecting pain. And it certainly arrived – sharp and bright and searing like sunlight directly in his eyes. But it wasn’t only pain. There was also pleasure, singing, trembling pleasure. So much that it washed through and over the pain, overwhelming any discomfort with a bliss so potent it blotted out all else. 

Goro didn’t even realize Akira had pierced his neck and drank from it until he pulled away and his lips were bright and blushing with Goro’s blood. Akira licked along them, moaning as he swallowed. He cupped Goro’s face in one hand, rubbing his thumb along Goro’s jaw. 

“Even better than I imagined. Darling, you’re so very sweet.” 

Goro smiled. Smiled? Yes, he smiled just a little. It was nice to be held by Akira, to have his approval, to feel so warm from the sensation of those fangs in his neck. 

It was more than that, though. Akira’s smile was warm now, warm and true. Finally, after their long, often silent battle to outdo each other, Akira was looking at Goro as his equal.

Akira started to undress him. Goro mostly just watched as Akira set him on his back on the floor and tugged his pants down. He wasn’t sure what Akira was after until a hand pumped swiftly along his cock, sending a new sort of pleasure crashing through him. Goro gasped and arched, but Akira just hushed him and went on stroking. 

“My, my. Look what we have here,” Akira said. “I thought that bite might have affected you this way. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you now.” 

Akira’s head lowered and wet heat closed around Goro’s cock. Those blood-tinted lips rode up and down him, tight and consuming. Akira’s tongue worked as well, but it was nothing compared to his teeth. They tickled here and there, careful, deliberate scrapes that sent sharp shocks into Goro’s gut. 

Akira took Goro in as deeply as he could. Then, carefully, so very carefully, he let one fang drag back up his length. 

Goro squirmed. It was excruciating, excruciating and delirious and so wonderful Goro thought he might weep. 

Akira did not press hard. That fang skimmed along light as a feather. Yet it drew blood all the same. Goro knew it from the way Akira moaned around him, from the way he popped his mouth off to lap at his shaft, licking up every little bead of blood. 

Goro writhed as Akira kept licking, occasionally bobbing up and down his whole length again, sucking at the minute cuts, savoring every drop that sprang free. 

Dimly, he knew the bleeding should have caused pain, knew the tightening in his gut ought to have been fear, knew the churning of his stomach should have been revulsion, but such distant sensations melted away in the heat Akira poured into his body. His mouth was almost too warm – how was it so warm? Every time Akira dipped down his cock Goro squirmed from the heat and pressure.

Goro lost his sense of his own body. He reached for anything steadying, found only Akira’s hair, but the silky strands were so lovely to cling to as that mouth took him apart and sucked him dry. His legs trembled on either side of Akira’s bobbing head. 

Akira drew up off him. Goro groaned from the pain of that momentary separation, his whole body aching like some essential piece of it had been abruptly torn off. 

Sitting between Goro’s legs, Akira brought his hand to his mouth and sank his fangs into his own flesh. 

“I know, darling,” Akira said. “I know. But you need this now. Here, drink.” 

He extended his hand. Goro didn’t pause even a heartbeat. He accepted that hand, pulling it greedily to his mouth and sucking on the blood pearling crimson on ivory skin. 

He shuddered as the first drops touched his tongue. That blood flashed through him, a sudden flare of heady, sweet nectar that threatened to overflow. 

That was the final moment Goro spent tethered to anything close to reality. He spiraled away from the palace, from his own body even, as the blood Akira fed him seeped into every corner and crevice, filling him with a new sort of life and energy.

He knew Akira returned to sucking his cock, knew that delicious heat closed around him again, knew fangs prickled along his skin to draw more blood. But he could not say he cared, not in the way he should. Awash in sensation, in swirling delirium, Goro surrendered.

Surrendered? Hadn’t he come here to fight? 

The thought evaporated almost as soon as it reached him. There was no need to fight. Why would he fight what Akira was doing to him now? Why would he fight a pleasure so intense his own voice was a distant wail of bliss? 

He spared a moment to wind his fingers through Akira’s hair again. It felt so nice against his skin, like feathers. He pushed Akira’s head down, needing him closer, needing more, and Akira went willingly, humming something that might have been acceptance or amusement or both. 

Akira’s clawed hands gripped Goro’s thighs as Goro tugged him up and down his cock. Were Goro’s own claws hurting him, digging into his scalp too deeply? If they were, Akira did not seem to mind, so Goro went on gripping, bucking his hips up to drive into Akira’s mouth. 

Something bubbled up in his stomach. This was a more familiar sensation, a relief among all the strange, new bliss boiling in his body. This he knew.

“Akira,” he rasped. That name was honey on his tongue, almost as sweet as Akira’s blood. 

“Mmm,” Akira said. 

The sound trembled down Goro’s cock, shaking loose any last bit of resistance, any last thread of tension that was not in service of pleasure. 

Akira must have felt it, must have known what his tongue and mouth were doing to Goro. He squeezed Goro’s thighs. It was all the signal Goro needed. He jerked on Akira’s hair, throwing his own head back as release snapped within him and he spilled into Akira’s mouth. Akira moaned around the filth that shot into his mouth and down his throat, drinking it all down and then licking along Goro’s cock as he eased off. 

Goro’s legs went limp when Akira released them to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Even the human parts of you are tasty,” Akira said. 

Goro just smiled, hazy with contentment. The cold red and black tiles of the palace floor became a blood red river cradling him as he drifted along the fading current of his release.

Akira crawled over him, stroking Goro’s face, claws petting down his cheek and dragging across his lips. 

“You are even more lovely this way,” Akira said. He bent down, kissing Goro softly this time. “I’m so glad you’ve come home at last.”

Home. That couldn’t be right, yet the moment Akira said it Goro’s chest tightened around that word, clutching it close. Yes, home. Of course, for where could he possibly feel more at peace than right here with Akira? 

“Come,” Akira said. “You need more suitable clothing and some rest. The change is not complete.” 

Goro wasn’t sure what change he meant, but he did not fight when Akira scooped him up off the floor and carried him away into the deep recesses of the palace.

#

Ann entered the palace. She prepared her whip from the second she arrived in this horrible red and black chasm, but the massive hall she stood in lay echoing and empty for as far as she could see. She paced among the marble columns, footsteps rebounding off cavernous walls lost in shadow. 

Stairs broke the monotony. A throne sat at their crest. Someone reclined upon that golden throne, a second figure at their feet. 

Ann neared cautiously and gasped at what the red light filtering through the windows revealed.

Akira, sitting on a golden throne. And at his feet, lolling against his thighs, hazy and blissed out and wearing little more than red lace – Goro Akechi. 

Ann pointed at the wretches above her. “Ready yourselves.”

Akira smiled, baring wicked fangs. “What do you say, Goro, are we ready?”

Goro turned glowing red eyes on Ann. “Oh yes, darling. We’re ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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